


We’re only young and naïve still

by sarcat



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Brotps, Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-16
Updated: 2013-01-16
Packaged: 2017-11-25 16:42:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/640979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcat/pseuds/sarcat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being there when others need you most, that’s usually enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We’re only young and naïve still

**Author's Note:**

> This was requested by a user on tumblr back in December. But now it’s like January, so oops. The request, "What it means to be a hero from the team’s perspective." Truthfully, my definition of a hero is just someone you can count on no matter the time or day. So I present the team kind of just being heroes to each other in five parts

“Something wrong?”

She wonders how he can look so sure of himself with just two simple words.

She huffs a little before turning her gaze to her dangling feet on the roof top. There are things she wants to say, and feelings she wants to blurt out, but they are stuck in the expanse of her lungs. They won’t dare push it all out. She’s private. You keep that stuff in.

“Of course there is something wrong. We’ve been on this rooftop for four hours, and not a single thing is happening. Not exactly a successful first night of mentoring,” she says truthfully while keeping the other mounds of insecurities bound up neatly.

He’s smiling. She knows it. She can feel it in the thickness of the air around her, pressing into her and telling her to relax a little. But she can’t. She wants to go back to Gotham where it was always an adventure and there was always a need for her help.

“The measure of a hero isn’t in the number of crimes you can squash in a single night. Being there when others need you most, that’s usually enough.” The weight of his hand on her shoulder is warm and reassuring. It’s even better considering that this conversation isn’t forced or spiteful. She’s too used to that.

“Thanks, Confucius.”

She smiles thoughtfully as he releases his grasp, and her eyes are already drinking in the starry setting and dimly lit street lights below. It’s different than Gotham. It’s warmer even though it’s been a constant 59°F most of the day.

It’s the first lesson she learns from him. It fills her. So when they are finally jumping from the top of fire escapes and pulling strings taut against the friction of calloused fingers, she feels her heart swell.

_This feels right._

—

“No, really, Conner, just trust me on this. M’gann will love it.” Wally’s eyes are deep and thoughtful as he inspects the tailored suit hanging from Conner’s broad shoulders. He’s much stiffer than he needs to be, but Wally simply shrugs it off with a bite of his bright red apple.

“But I’ll look ridiculous. I don’t do suits.”

Wally swallows loudly before biting into the apple again. He doesn’t release the bite. Instead, he holds the fruit between his teeth, freeing his hands to adjust Conner’s collar over the bright red tie he had lent him for the evening.  

“I thought you just didn’t do monkey suits?” he jests. It fails to crack any semblance of a smile on his stony exterior.

“Look, I know girls. I know M’gann. She’ll appreciate it. Girls like a sharp dressed man especially when he’s holding a bouquet of flowers,” Wally says while hiking his thumb behind him, deep red flowers resting over their granite countertop, “and promising her a night she won’t soon forget. Proms are just those things to girls.”

“I know. You’ve said it about fifteen times since you got here.”

“Okay, maybe I should just leave then since you clearly know everything there is—“

“Wait!” He’s already gripping his sleeve to make him change his mind. “I’m just frustrated. I never thought dating M’gann would be this complicated.”

Wally offers a smug looking smile over his shoulder before turning in Conner’s hold. The movement frees him and allows him to cross his arms comfortably. Conner swears that the tilt of his forehead makes him look impish, like every word and action to follow him was just leading to his doom.  

“I’m glad you realized that my services are essential to your success. Honestly, women are like jigsaw puzzles. They can be messy and take some time to figure out, but once you do—,“ he says while tapping a finger against his chin thoughtfully, “everything falls into place and you have something nice to look at.”

Conner gives him a stiff look, brows knotted and body unmoving. “I don’t follow…”

Wally rolls his eyes towards the ceiling, blinking a few times while contemplating his choice of metaphors. “Uh, never mind. Let’s just find that cologne and spritz you up instead. You need to be ready by eight o’clock on the dot.”

And it’s weird how Wally has played such a big part in a life three and a half years in the making. He ends up regretting less that he had his thumb hovering over his name when he was going through his phone contacts earlier that day. Wally had agreed immediately. And maybe just knowing that he was there and willing made him relax his shoulders a bit.

A puff of cologne hits his face unexpectedly, and his face twists in anger at the unpleasant taste it leaves on his lips. It only stings his eyes for a second, but when he’s focusing back on Wally and he’s trying to hide the pure look of panic behind an apologetic smile, he says it.

“Thanks.”

—

“Whoa, I guess I’ll have to give you credit. I was here a whole five minutes and didn’t even know you were—“ he pauses when the heavy sniffle escapes her, and he’s lost as to what to do, “M’gann, are you crying?”

He didn’t need to be a detective to figure it out, to see the redness in her eyes, the line of puffiness trailing where she fisted her hands to rid the tears. Dick watches her bow her head immediately, lifting the pale yellow of her cardigan up with her hands and dabbing away at her eyes.

“No, no. I was just,” she pauses, looking down at her green tinted palms, “thinking about Mars. Thinking about family.” And she does that thing she does when she’s lying blatantly, holding her tongue between her teeth when she goes silent, eyes steadily moving to the left like she was distracted by something.

“Right,” he drags out slowly.

He doesn’t say another word, just sits beside her on the familiar green couch, sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He settles his mug on the coffee table before settling his back on the comfortable cushions.

Turning to her, he settles his hands behind the back of his head. “So, why did you break up with  _Mars_? Earth sounds pretty lame in comparison.”

Her brows knit in anger and he notices the way she clenches her fist in the deep seated emotions she carries along with her.

“I didn’t break up with hi—“ she pauses, eyes fluttering. Her head sinks again, the heels of her palms pressing and rubbing at her eyes.  “You know, don’t you?”

Dick simply shrugs his shoulders. The groan that escapes her is forcing back a sob, and he’s got a hand on her shoulder instantly. It’s not a sign that he wants to hear every dripping detail. She knows that much at least. She tries to find a way to relax. She opts for falling back into the cushions, eyes trained on the ceiling. They stay connected for a long time, and his coffee goes cold.

“Do you need time? For yourself, I mean. Maybe away from the team?” he offers.

She shakes her head, and the simple motion releases a track of tears she forgot she was holding. This was harder than she wanted to admit to him. He knew that much. Eternity, happiness were really fleeting thoughts these days.

She turns suddenly, and she’s pressed into his shoulder, needy for warmth, for anything that would make her feel like it would eventually be okay. That really things this horrible were temporary and that the rage, the hurt coursing in her veins wouldn’t rip her to shreds. He holds her still with a single hand at her back.

“No. Definitely no. I can manage. It should only hurt for a little bit. I just need this. Few minutes, please,” she finally answers.

It’s all muffled. It’s all raw with sniffles. And his shirt gets soaked through soon enough.

But he obliges.  

—

“You okay?”

Those are the first words he decides to acknowledge after the hours that he’s held the unnamed child at his hip. They’re raspy. And he figures that paying attention to the tone of it will relax him a bit or excite him. He’s not sure, but the jitter of his leg slows to a less blurring speed. He finishes chewing on his lip, eyes peering up at a hearth of warm grey.

“Fine,” he replies.

The curtness of his phrase only makes her stay, so he lets his eyes wonder back down to the toddler on his lap hoping that she’ll talk, but not about things he’s not ready to discuss.

She takes a seat beside him, crossing her legs with a hum on the tip of her tongue.  “Okay.”

He raises a brow at her, taking that exact moment to inch away from her when their shoulders touch unexpectedly. “Um, what?”

Artemis rests her chin on her propped up hand. “What part lost you, the  _okay_  or the period at the end of that?”

The toddler in his grasps fusses a little, and his attention automatically goes to him. He bounces his leg a bit as his hands settle under his armpits to hold him steady. He’s rewarded with a gurgled mess of a grin that makes him smile genuinely for the first time since the start of the parental abduction. And he can instantly feel the stare when he offers his sleeve to clean the little bit of dribble hanging on his lips.

“Not going to lie, but staring like that is really starting to creep me out.” He can feel her rolling her eyes without even having to spare her a glance.

“Don’t mind me leaving then,” she says in a huff.

He can feel the displacement of the bleachers when she stands, and there’s every desire to just latch on to her wrist and pull her back down beside him again, but he doesn’t even bother. His leg just jitters irregularly, eyes glued to her back, to the hair trailing down to her—

A sharp wailing noise from his lap pierces his eardrums and echoes horribly against the walls of the gym they are all occupying. It’s the only thing that gets her to turn around, but he never notices because his attention is fully on the life that he’s holding in his hands.

“Hey, little buddy. Everything’s okay, I promise!” He’s still very unsettled, but his attention is locked on him behind watery tears and wails that kind of rip him apart. A familiar weight settles beside him. Somehow it calms him, mind focusing on what was important. “Did mean old Arty leaving hurt your feelings bud?”

There’s a pause in the cries. Everything is replaced with a tentative look and tracks of tears on his pudgy cheeks.

“She’s a heart breaker,” he says in a higher pitched tone, bouncing his knee eagerly at the first sight of a dimple.

Artemis merely clicks an annoyed  _tch_ , but does nothing to correct him. “You’re good at that. I mean babies I guess.”

There’s a pleasant sounding gurgle and he grins. “Nah, I think he just likes the sound of your voice.”

They sit like that for a while, the infant just looking at them with a happy crease on his forehead and noises they can’t really decipher outside the realm of delight. He never admits liking the way she ends up humming a mash up of familiar children’s tunes, or the way she never pushes the issue with his parents further.

When the child in his arms finally tires himself out, he holds him against his chest like his mother taught him to once. “Not to sound weird, but thanks for the talk.”

She looks as confused as he assumed she would be. “I didn’t say anything.”

“I know.”

—

The selfishness sounds rough at the back of their throats. There are arrows pointed, glares ripping through each other. Too much hurt to count in one setting.

“And you thought this was, okay? Even you Wally?” Conner grunts, twisted and ugly.

Wally only lowers his gaze, eyes trained on the tension in his fists. He looks up sharply, his intentions of defending himself only being quieted by a single look from Kaldur.

It’s Kaldur’s turn to speak. “There was never any intention to hurt any of you, but we were aware from the start that this would likely happen. That once you all found out what was happening that you would react like this. We have come to accept this reality and hope that you might understand—“

“Understand the fact that you lied to us? Understand that you endangered everyone with this plan?” A single vein throbs boldly down the length of Conner’s neck as he grits his teeth. “Just when I can’t think this situation is bad enough. And you got Artemis involved, ruined her life, ruined all of those children too. Can you really say you can live with yourselves after what you’ve put us through?”

There’s something so ugly about the thoughts swimming through his mind, the way he remembers M’gann shaking in his arms the night she had confessed everything to him.

_No one should find out that way._

 He hears those words, and they sink deeper than their mind link ever did.

“Did you all forget why we’re here, why we do what we do? What it means to wear these targets on our chests?”

The words hit home, but they’re still defensive, still gripping.

“We did this for the greater good. We did it over our own personal gain,” Dick answers awkwardly, alone.

“At our expense? Was it worth it?” M’gann’s voice rings out and for once there’s not a witty comment to greet her or joke to groan over. “Coming to Earth, feeling this pain. I thought no matter what we would always be there for each other. I didn’t think we were that worthless to you.”

“No. Never.” Artemis finally answers. It’s fierce and strained from months of hiding the truth. “M’gann it had to be done. We thought that the fewer people we involved would mean that fewer people had to suffer through what we did or had to conceal.”

Her grey eyes are pleading, but she’s not asking for forgiveness. She’s not asking for something she knows she doesn’t deserve. So when she’s met with no words, just eerie silence between them and the sound of the wind beating into the branches of the trees overhead, she accepts it.

Wally steps forward. “Things are bad.”

It’s something that they can all agree with at least. They all nod their heads solemnly.

“But what do we do now?” Wally questions constructively, “We obviously can’t take back what was done. But people still need us right now. You know, before things get worse.”

Kaldur is the first to nod at this, first to stand down and leave himself open and vulnerable. “This is true. Maybe we won’t ever be what we once were, but for now we must act as a unit. We must be Earth’s heroes now, and to do that we need to accept that we need each other most of all.”

There are a few glances between them, but there’s not a single argument amongst them. There’s pain there and it’s festering, but it’s something they push past once they’ve come together as a collective whole again.

The mind link feels like home.    


End file.
